


Me and Mr. B.

by sharedwithyou



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe, Animal Traits, Dark, Dark Humor, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Mindfuck, Psychological Trauma, Reader-Insert, Triggers, headcannon, possible triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 04:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7701625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharedwithyou/pseuds/sharedwithyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warning: Possible Psychological Triggers. Mild, but yes, still there.</p><p>Inspired by (but not based on) Harley Quinn and the Joker. Absolutely no spoilers though.</p><p> </p><p>“Now I’ve got some stuff to finish up before tonight, so you be good til I get back.”</p><p>“Or what?” You laid down on the cool glass surface and batted your lashes at him. He took a lingering look, before turning around back to business like the business man he was.</p><p>“Well, there is one way to find out.”</p><p>The edge was back in his voice, the same one that came out when he bossed his employees around, or picked up his phone in the middle of dinner.<br/>You’d seen the shiver that passed through the room when it came; but you’d always been a bit naïve. Or maybe a bit lucky.<br/>Either way, you weren’t scared of him. You’d be good if you felt like it.<br/>Which, conveniently, you did today.</p><p>“Alright. I’ll behave until you get back, Mr. Barton.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Me and Mr. B.

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Not for the faint of heart. Mild Psychological Triggers. Think Good Girl (not so much as Red Lips Blue Lips though)  
> There is slight Dark Reader, but mostly it's Dark Other Characters. So, yep. Read at your own discretion.
> 
> This is one of my fun mindfuckery fics that I felt inspired to write. I watched the midnight premiere of Suicide Squad and LOVED it!! There are absolutely no Suicide Squad spoilers here, or even really any parallels. All this stuff is basically from my own devilish mind.
> 
> So, enjoy! Oh, and leave a comment if you liked!
> 
>  
> 
> XOXO Bucky the Mindfucker

 

“All she does is lay around all day, like a freaking cat.”

“She might as well be, the way he treats her.”

“Both of you shut up, unless you want your asses kicked again!”

The three of them turned back to their work, whistling awkwardly as you skipped by.

“Morning, guys!”

“…morning.”

They muttered into their screens as they tapped away furiously, and you almost burst out laughing. Instead you gave them a friendly wave, and continued on your way.

 

“What a fucking moron.”

“You really are waiting for a whooping, aren’t you?!”

 

 

“You should’ve seen them, mumbling away like toddlers in time-out!” You giggled, munching on a cupcake, swinging your legs over the kitchen counter.

“That would make you teacher’s pet, now, wouldn’t it?”

You practically purred as he ran his finger along the frosting and pressed it to your lips.

“Mm, my favorite part.”

He leaned in for a bite of the cupcake, but twisted his neck so his mouth met yours instead. “Mine too.”

 

“Now I’ve got some stuff to finish up before tonight, so you be good til I get back.”

 

“Or what?” You laid down on the cool glass surface and batted your lashes at him. He took a lingering look, before turning around back to business like the business man he was.

 

“Well, there is one way to find out.”

 

The edge was back in his voice, the same one that came out when he bossed his employees around, or picked up his phone in the middle of dinner.

You’d seen the shiver that passed through the room when it came; but you’d always been a bit naïve. Or maybe a bit lucky.

Either way, you weren’t scared of him. You’d be good if you felt like it.

Which, conveniently, you did today.

 

“Alright. I’ll behave until you get back, Mr. Barton.”

 

 

“What’s the status on our asset?”

“Currently in transit along Route 5.”

“I want eyes on him the whole time, understood?”

“Yes sir.”

Clint nodded sharply, dismissing them, and headed up the stairs to the higher floors.

“Hey, Hawk.”

“Hi.”

“Thought you were off-duty today.”

“Change of plans.”

Nat the Cat nodded and followed him to the control room. “What’s with your bow?”

“I don’t usually leave home without it.”

“Looks like you brought a little extra this time.”

 

He set up in his position before pulling out his weapon to see what she meant. Sitting in the middle of the quiver like a single rose, was a pink satin bow tied to one of his arrows. He cursed under his breath.

 

“Your girl?”

“Yeah.”

“You better be careful, Clint.”

“Oh?”

“People like us don’t get to fall in love.”

He let out a dry chuckle.

 

“Don’t worry. She’s more like a pet.”

 

 

“What do you do when I’m not around?”

“Trust me, it’s pretty boring.”

“Really? Seems exciting, considering all the minions you have.”

“They’re called employees, (y/n).”

“Potato, ketchup.”

He quirked his eyebrow at you, so you stuck your tongue back at him.

“Take me to work with you sometime.”

“Hmm, pass.”

“Why not?! They have take-your-kid-to-work day.”

“You’re not exactly my kid, hon.”

“Might be awkward, yeah.” You unbuttoned his shirt, trying to ignore the fact that he always avoided talking about his job. You knew it was pretty important, and probably over your head; but he could at least try to explain a little bit. You weren’t as much of an airhead as people thought.

Noticing your silence, he massaged your neck and lowered his voice. “If I could tell you, babe, I would.”

“Really?” You curled up in his lap and slowly pulled the shirt off of him, ignoring the obvious stitches along his ribcage.

“Really.” He placed his hand on your hair and brushed at it slowly, until your breathing fell level.

Then he got up gingerly, leaving you in a ball on the couch as he headed off for the night.

 

 

“Hey, baby! I missed you.” You bounded over as he unlocked the door to your room. Your face fell when you saw his arms crossed. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m disappointed in you, (y/n).”

“Why?!” You looked around, bewildered. You’d been in here ever since the bodyguards escorted you over three hours ago. You hadn’t even snuck out for a snack after they only brought you a salad for dinner.

“This.”

You quickly hid the grin that crossed your face when he handed you the pink ribbon, replacing it with a small pout. “You didn’t like my present?”

“I told you never to go through my stuff.” His tone had turned cold, and you felt the sudden need for a jacket.

“I didn’t. It was on the armchair in your room.”

“You’re not supposed to go in there either.”

“I didn’t mean to. My superball bounced in.” You weren’t a very good liar, so you’d had to find an excuse that was actually true in case your surprise turned sour. Which it evidently had.

He let out a loud sigh, but kept his arms at his sides. “So you didn’t touch anything else?”

“No. Just the one arrow.”

“Very well.” The smile came back, and you relaxed and rushed forward to give him his good-evening hug. Instead, he stepped out of the way and pointed to the opposite wall.

“You know the rules, (y/n).”

“But I-“

“Now.”

You lowered your eyes and trudged to the corner of the room.

“Can I at least eat something later?” You asked softly as you stared at the ground moodily.

“We’ll see. You’re getting a little heavy.”

You slumped a little, but kept your distance from either wall.

“And no sitting down until I get back.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

 

Later, when he shook you awake and you pulled your head away from the wall hurriedly, you were too distracted by the crick in your neck and the pins and needles in your feet to wonder how long you’d been standing here, or to recognize that he was carrying you to his bed for the first time.

 

 

“What are you doing?”

You jumped away from the desk guiltily. “Just straightening up.”

“And why, exactly, would you do that?”

You kicked the ground awkwardly, wincing when you realized you had blisters from yesterday. He softened at this.

“I feel bad that I haven’t been helping you.”

“Helping me?” His annoyed look changed to perplexion.

“Well, it’s like I’m not really a good girlfriend. Like, I could be organizing your schedule. Or driving you to your new offices. Or, you know, contributing.”

He stared at you, so you rambled on.

“I mean, in a relationship, it’s supposed to be 50/50. I can’t even cook. Well, I’m afraid to practice after the mac n cheese fire two weeks ago.”

He stayed quiet, which made you fidget and your palms sweaty.

“Do you not like the word relationship? I know it’s kind of clunky… and they say guys hate labels-“

You stopped when his look of confusion was replaced with amusement.

“What’s so funny?!” You demanded, your cheeks heating up from embarrassment.

 

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

 

You put down the papers you’d tried to file alphabetically for him and wandered in his direction.

“I just don’t want you to feel like all I do is sit around and try to be cute.”

You’d never been the trophy-wife type; not attractive enough. But you’d quit your job when you moved in, and he’d told you to hold off on getting a new one.

“I don’t, (y/n).”

“Are you sure?” He was in arms reach, but you weren’t sure if you should hug him. On the one hand, you’d gotten punished yesterday. On the other, you’d fallen asleep in his arms.

 

“I feel like you sit around and succeed at being cute.”

 

You squealed and jumped onto him, and he hoisted you up for two seconds before tossing you onto the bed.

As you tugged at his zipper, he kissed your ear and whispered into it.

 

“If I ever catch you snooping, it’s gonna be a lot worse than no dinner for a week.”

 

 

“So how long have you guys known each other, Nat the Cat?”

As part of his new ‘open-book policy’, or at least more open than before, Clint had brought a co-worker to hang out with you this afternoon. She winced at the nickname, but didn’t bother correcting you. Which made you really like her. After all, she did remind you of a cat. Maybe a puma.

“Clint and I go way back.”

“You guys go to the same college?”

She choked on the tea you’d made; it was probably too bitter. You pushed the sugar packets at her, but she shook her head. “Not exactly.”

“But you’ve been in the business together.”

“Many years, yes.”

“So, you guys share post-its and stuff?”

Her lips twitched. “I’m not supposed to divulge company secrets.”

“Come on, you can trust me. Look, I made you cookies!” You shoved a plate of oreos at her and she grinned.

“I can see why he likes you.”

“My magnanimous generosity, indeed.” So she was hush-hush as well; but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t have an awesome time otherwise. You’d find out more about your boo’s business once your tummy was full.

 

“So, Nat the Cat, you ever play Mario Kart?”

 

 

“I’m home, (y/n).”

He waited for you to throw the door open in his face as soon as he unlocked it, but it stayed in place.

“You decent?” Not that he’d never seen you naked before, but he did have some manners after all. When you didn’t respond, he knocked once more, before stepping in. “What’s wrong?”

You were standing in the corner, facing the walls again. By the quivering in your calves, it seemed like you’d been there for a while.

“I was bad.”

“What’s that, now?” His voice was steady and calm, especially when he saw you shaking slightly.

“I went into your study.” You stared ahead, motionless except for the wobbling off your ankles. This punishment wasn’t the most ergonomic, after all. Even when self-inflicted.

You heard his sigh, felt it against your neck; there was no anger in it. “Well, I’d say you’ve been standing here for at least half an hour already. That’s more than enough.”

“Twenty five minutes only.”

“Let’s go get you something to eat.” He put a soothing hand on your shoulder, but you stayed unmoving. “Guess I shouldn’t have left the door open.”

 

“You didn’t. I swiped the key card from Nat the Cat when I was hugging her goodbye.”

 

 

“She’s quite sweet. Missing a few screws, possibly, but it’s easier to keep her in the dark that way, right?”

“Don’t sound so judgey Natasha.”

“I’m not.”

“I can hear it in your voice.”

“Maybe you’re hearing your own guilt.” She offered nonchalantly as she snapped the neck of one of the contracts.

“Don’t pull your first-year psych major bullshit on me.” He tightened the bindings around one of the spies so he’d stop squirming.

“Speaking of college, she asked if we went to the same one. Almost busted a gut at that one. How much does she know, really? Or not know?”

“Hey, the less she knows, the better.”

“She’ll figure it out eventually Clint.”

“You’ve met her, Widow. Missing a few screws, remember?”

 

“And I know you, Clint. You’re naturally attracted to the smart ones. Even if they seem clueless.”

 

 

“She was right, you know.”

“Who?”

“Tasha.”

 

With the hand on your shoulder, he suddenly swung you around and pushed you against the wall.

“She said you’d figure me out eventually.”

“She knows you pretty well, doesn’t she?” He kept his hand on your shoulder, instead of moving it to your throat.

“We’re not together, if that’s what you’re asking.” His voice had turned cold once more, the way you’d heard it so many times before.

Guess your luck was running out.

“At least not recently,” you mumbled. “Still close enough for her to have the key.”

“How’d you know?”

 

“Lucky guess.”

 

 

Staring at the neat collage you’d made of the papers you found, you stared at each of the pictures of his ‘contracts.’

Maybe you were looking for a story you could follow out of this rabbit hole you’d found yourself in, but you discovered worse.

Without meaning to, you’d recognized one of the victims.

Victim? Criminal? You didn’t know which organization, if any, Clint was part of. Was he a hero? A supervillain?

Or just a hitman for hire. Would doing it purely for money be the worst of all?

 

No. Maybe worst of all was seeing the red X over the face of your third grade teacher.

 

 

“How’d you see through her, anyway? Tasha’s one of the hardest reads I know.”

“I didn’t, exactly.” You weren’t sure if he was asking out of curiosity, or if your answers would have any effect on your future.

Rather than assume the worst, you figured you’d tell the truth.

 

Did Mr. Barton really have it in him to kill you?

 

“Just figured you sent her to keep an eye on me. She had to be pretty special if you’d let me out of my room while you were gone. Or deadly, I guess.”

“Seems you fooled her well enough.”

“Like student, like teacher.”

Your voice caught in your throat as you looked up to the man you thought you loved.

Or maybe just the man you thought loved you.

 

 

Because you’d stayed in your room, in your personal little time-out, when you could’ve tried to run or hide.

Or exposed him for the dark creature he really was.

What was it they called him?

Hawkeye?

Ironic that he hadn’t been able to see through you.

Or maybe, just maybe, he’d wanted you to find out.

To see how far you’d go. Or stay.

 

 

“So, what now?”

“What do you mean?”

 

“Are you going to kill me?”

 

Your question didn’t waver as you looked at him dead in the eye. It would be better to end like this than for him to silence you, to hide you somewhere where the world would never find out.

To finish what he’d started before you questioned your undying love for him.

For this monster, or man.

 

“What do you think?”

This time, it was unadulterated curiosity in his voice, and nothing more.

 

You felt a bitter grin cross your face, as he loosened his grip and stepped back to take in all of you.

 

 

“I don’t know.

 After all, right now,

 

It’s just you and me Mr. B.”

**Author's Note:**

> WHEEEE
> 
> leave me a shout-out below!!
> 
> Random Ramblings:
> 
> Poll 1: WHICH MINDFUCK BIGGEST?! i can't even write this question properly since the whole thing was kind of crazy and awesome  
> i can't even answer this question
> 
> fyi this is while Clint is an assassin, not in Avengers (otherwise Tony of course would make an appearance). it's a bit AU/headcannon obviously, the main thing being that i normally see clint as a maverick/i-work-alone type, but in this case it was nice for him to have a front and to have some little underlings. sexy, right?!  
> next time i'll have to explore his lonewolf-ness
> 
> I was thinking of making it Mr. Barnes, but i feel like i've given Bucky tons of attention lately, and in the end i like the direction this went instead. Clint definitely shines here even though he's not the crazy/sexed out bestie he usually is. yum.
> 
> poll 2:how much do you hate the cliffie?!?!  
> sorry but i'm not sure if i'll write a sequel, and i couldn't decide on how it should end either.  
> so i guess it will just be really unsatisfying until i find a way to write some more on this. if i do decide to. hmm.
> 
> poll 3: what do you think will end up happening??  
> like do you think lovely will stay, and if so will she stay blissfully ignorant or join the craft, or will she get creeped out eventually, or will she run away when the time comes or... WHAT??!?!?!?! hehe. so i guess, predictions? or how you see this fic ending?
> 
> thanks for reading loveliess!!! talk to you soon, probably through some more angsty (but less dark) piece of work hehe
> 
> XOXO Bucky the You-Know-Who


End file.
